


Watch the Queen Conquer

by Everdistant



Category: Fate/Grand Order, Fate/stay night & Related Fandoms
Genre: AU, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 02:53:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15809865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Everdistant/pseuds/Everdistant
Summary: Bazett summons Medb, because nothing is ever allowed to go Bazett's way.





	Watch the Queen Conquer

The hotel is so far above Bazett's means that it sets her teeth on edge. Whenever some aging businessman glances at her, clearly wondering why she's here, she adjusts her collar, pulls on her tie.

It doesn't help that she's got a bag from the nearest convenience store in her hand. Doesn't she have people for this? And the answer to that is, no. Of course she doesn't. She's somebody else's people.

The elevator's no better, if only because the cleaning lady in there with her seems to love Bazett's hair color. Bazett's polite enough, but she does not want a stranger poking at her face, thank you.

She sighs again, a bone-deep thing as she steps out of the elevator after the cleaning lady and her cart. Bazett's been at this for four days, and she's already sick of it. She takes a step forward, rolls her shoulders, then walks over to the same hotel room as always, raps her knuckles against the door twice. When there's no response, she slides the card in and slips in anyway, pushing it open with her elbow and tossing the bag on the table.

"I got you food, Rider," Bazett grumbles, tugging her tie a little looser as she glances around. There's nobody here, but that's no surprise. This is a two bedroom suite with a common living area, plenty of room for Rider to...

She hears the sound of running, bubbling water, rubs her eyes. She knows exactly where Rider is, and can follow her there by the sound of bubbly top 100 pop tunes coming from the radio.

Rider - Queen Medb - is kicked back in the two-person jacuzzi, legs outstretched and crossed. One hand's holding a cocktail with a curly straw in it, sipping casually on it, and her other hand is bouncing finger along to the J-pop. When Bazett opens the door, Medb leans her head back, hair falling backwards.

"Rider," Bazett sighs.

"Master," Medb grins, tone not subservient in the slightest. In the parlance of the times, 'Master' has come to mean 'Servant.' Or, if Bazett's being generous - to herself or to Medb, she isn't sure which - 'challenge.'

The two of them share a look for a moment, a long moment. It's the kind of look two people can only share when they know exactly what the other person is going to say, are daring the other to say it first. It's impressive, really, how accurate a picture they have of each other based on only a few days of experience.

Then again, Bazett can't imagine another person in the world she's this close to. Despite everything, they come from the same mold.

They covet the same man. That's why Medb was summoned as her Servant. And they know that, intimately, without even having to speak it. Bazett's read all the stories, spent many late nights in her youth, grumbling to her mother about how Medb was the kind of woman she was never going to be, no matter what.

And Medb, of course, had recognized the earrings that Bazett had tried to use as a catalyst. Recognized them enough to reach out from the Grail just to take them as a trinket, a thing that was Chulainn's and now is hers.

Bazett has one of them on, now, in her left ear, and Medb had taken the liberty of taking the other and putting it in her right ear. It bounces as she turns her head, her favorite piece of jewelry. "Did you really get me food?" Medb asks, tilting her head. "All I smell is plastic. It won't do to starve me, you know," Medb titters, knowing full well that it isn't possible for a Servant to starve. She'd drain all of Bazett's mana dry before fading away. The Master/Servant contract amounts to a death pact, barring the Servant dying in battle.

Bazett wants to punch her. Hard. Especially since she can hardly even tell if Medb's bothered putting on a swimsuit beneath the bubbling water.

"If you want something nicer, figure out a way to pay for it," Bazett sighs as she steps around the jacuzzi, leans down to turn the radio off. Medb sighs as the music fades out, takes a comforting sip of her cocktail.

"Master, I'm a queen. I don't pay for anything. I _take_. Scrounging money together to pay for a tribute to me is a privilege, you know?" Medb boasts, pointing her cocktail glass to Bazett as she makes her point.

Bazett huffs, adjusts her suit jacket, pulls it in closer around herself. "You aren't my queen, Rider."

"You're Irish," Medb shoots back. "Of course, all people belong to me, but you're my subject by birth -"

"I'm from Monaghan, that's in Ulster!"

There's an audible gasp from Medb as she stands up straight. Bazett realizes that no, she isn't wearing a bikini. With her standing in the jacuzzi, her being a good six inches shorter than Bazett anyway, and that fact that she's naked, she looks a little ridiculous, peering up at her.

But there's a certain aura to her. Her eyes are lit up. Bazett really shouldn't have gotten her started on this topic, she realizes.

"Even better, Master. Since you're from _Ulster_ ," Medb says it like a curse, "being ruled by me is something you've wanted, without knowing it, your entire life," Medb smirks as she says it, earnest belief in her voice. "I wonder, do you lose all your strength when you're 'invaded' as well?"

Bazett's shoulders stiffen. Between Medb's state of dress and the obvious flirtation in her voice, Bazett's on uncomfortable ground. "Don't talk to me like that," she orders.

"When you say something like that, I hear it as a plea for my affections."

"Aren't you supposed to want men?"

"Aren't you supposed to dress like a woman?"

Bazett turns on her heel, eyes flashing for a moment, almost like she's about to attack her Servant. She can even see the way Medb tenses, ready to move if she has to.

And then Bazett catches herself, pulls back, adjusts her tie like it's a seatbelt. Like she needs it as tight as possible for her own safety.

"You aren't my type at all, it seems," Medb complains, somehow sounding sincerely disappointed. She sinks back into the jacuzzi with a sigh, taking a mournful sip of her cocktail.

Bazett stands on guard for a moment longer, then, sighing herself, pulls herself back together, running a hand through her hair.

"If you don't like the food, figure something out," she tells her, turning to leave. Only the sound of splashing water makes her stay. Medb's standing back up again?

"Oh, I certainly can. Fetch me my clothes."

Bazett stares blankly at Medb over her shoulder.

Medb makes a 'hurry up' type of motion with her hands.

Bazett continues staring.

* * *

 

Medb, having managed the heroic and arduous task of dressing herself, sweater and tights and heeled boots - an outfit she'd somehow wrangled out of an 'admirer' when Bazett wasn't looking - leads the two of them through the hotel's halls. They take the stairs, this time, Medb striding down them like she's making her entrance at a party or feast, even though nobody is waiting for them at the bottom.

This woman is insufferable. Bazett has known that from the moment she met her. Not the summoning ritual, but the moment she'd turned the page and saw the words 'Queen Medb of Connacht.'

It's good when legends live up to the stories, she supposes.

"I can solve your money troubles as easily as snapping my fingers," Medb promises, even snapping her fingers to prove her point.

"I don't feel any richer," Bazett tries to snark from behind her Servant. It's unfamiliar on her lips, Bazett too sincere, too quiet to have made many smart aleck comments in her life. Maybe Medb really is inspiring, in a way. Medb doesn't deign her comment worthy of a response, though, instead simply striding down to the bottom of the stairs. She brushes her hair back, adjusts her sweater to expose a little more of her shoulder, still flushed red from the jacuzzi, and moves towards the hotel's restaurant. She's made Bazett call down and pay for the lunch buffet, something that costs more than Bazett cares to do the conversion from yen on. Maybe it's a good thing she hasn't gotten a grasp of how much an individual yen is worth.

"Now, let's find us a worthless man - " Medb hums as she glances over the crowd of rich old men. Some with wives, some with kids, but the fact that this is a mostly male, entirely rich crowd wasn't lost on Bazett. Like she's said, this hotel is way too rich for her blood. But Medb has refused to sleep in the little inn Bazett actually has enough money for a two week stay in, so here they are.

Bazett adjusts her suit jacket as they approach their mark, a man probably in his late 50s. A politician, going by the pin on his lapel, though Bazett isn't quite equipped to tell one pin from another. What professions had those? Kirei had told her, once, when he was making some point about the law - lawyers, probably. Kirei had joked that priests should wear pins, and Bazett had joked that he could say that if he moved to an actually Catholic country.

It's odd, to think he's dead, and only Medb stepping towards the man drags Bazett out of her memories.

"Hello, sir," Medb starts, a little more subtle than Bazett had expected her approach to be. She's already sitting down at the table, though. Medb clears her throat, bats her eyelashes up at the man. "You see, my friend and I are all the way from Ireland, but we've been a little lonely, all by ourselves in Japan. We'd enjoy some company. Wouldn't we, Bazett?"

Medb smiles, does her best to look lonely and put upon. Bazett grimaces, does her best to look uninvolved.

Medb succeeds, because the man's eyes shine with pity and interest. Bazett fails, because he glances over at her.

"Well, I certainly wouldn't say no to the company of two young ladies!" The man smiles, and Medb feigns delight. "Thank you! Oh, Bazett, would you mind getting us some food? Bazett's my bodyguard, don't mind her - ooh, what do I do? I'm sooo glad you asked~"

Bazett's quick to walk away, because she does not need to hear Medb ensnaring some poor man. The only reason she's allowing it is because, despite her many, many givings about Medb, she doubts she has murder on the mind. Or anything more heinous than getting him to pay for their lunch. The man's clearly loaded, so Bazett doesn't have many qualms about that. She picks through the buffet for things she actually likes, is pleased to find fish that isn't raw. She'll never get accustomed to sushi.

She considers what Medb might like, even tries to cast her mind back to the legends she's read over and over. Embarrassingly, she recalls Cu Chulainn liking fish more than anything to do with Medb. Even worse, her mind decides to supply her fantasies of feeding Cu Chulainn a home cooked meal.

She looks down at the fish on her own plate, realizes how much those stories have influenced her, and just gets another plate of the same things. If Medb would prefer red meat, she can steal some off her mark's plate.

... Her mark that is currently halfway through a glass of alcohol, even though it's not even noon. The mead in the glass shimmers red, and Bazett hurries over, smacks their plate into the table. The man hardly notices.

"Rider!" Bazett leans down to hiss in her Servant's ear. "Please tell me you did not just use a Noble Phantasm on a civilian."

"You make it sound like I've impaled him on Caladbolg," Medb pouts back. "I just offered him a drink."

Medb turns towards the man, raising her voice. "Enjoying your alcohol, Akiyuki? It's a very, veryyy famous Irish brand, you can hardly get it here in Japan."

Akiyuki takes another gulp of it, staring down at his glass. "It's wonderful! How much does this cost to import? My wife loves alcohol even more than I do, she'd adore this." At the phrase 'my wife,' Bazett glares over at Medb, who offers a shrug of her shoulders and a wink.

"Well, Akiyuki, I think we can solve that for you! The truth is, that's my family business. One of many. I'd be happy to import some for you, if you could, say..."

Medb blanks on the yen conversion rate as much as Bazett has, makes a face. "... All the money in your wallet?"

"I'm afraid I only carry my credit card on me," Akiyuki answers, as if 'all the money in your wallet' makes Medb sound like a businesswoman and not a mugger.

"Then that'll do fine."

Akiyuki's holding his wallet out, reaching into it, Medb happily putting her fingers out to accept it. Bazett has to swat his hand away.

"Rider, there's no way he won't notice his card's missing when the mead wears off."

Akiyuki looks like a hurt, confused puppy, glancing between Medb and Bazett. Medb harrumphs, brushes her hair back over her shoulder. "And how is that my problem?"

"Because he'll call his bank and tell them his card's been stolen, and then they'll check the transactions on it, and then they'll find our hotel room."

"The laws of this nation do not apply to me. I make laws, Master, I don't obey them."

Bazett narrows her eyes at Medb. Medb stares back up at her, unblinking, challenging her to look away. Finally, Bazett grumbles, looks away from him. "Just give us..." Bazett searches. How much would they need to live in this hotel for a few weeks, plus have food? A hotel like this would cost about a few hundred euros a night, add in... a couple hundred more for food and whatever else Medb needs to be pleased, that's about... Multiply that by twenty, to be on the safe side...

"Just go to an ATM and withdraw fifteen thousand yen," Bazett says, having completely forgotten the part of the process where remembers how much a euro is worth in yen. Akiyuki nods up at her anyway, glances at Medb for approval - she dismisses him with a wave of her hand - and hurries off, leaving his drink behind, not quite empty.

Medb pulls the cup away from his side of the table, runs her finger along the rim. "It's funny, isn't it? How easy it is to control a man with just a drink and a glance."

"I wouldn't know," Bazett answers. "That's not how I prefer to get things done."

"And how do you prefer to get things done? Near as I can tell, the answer is not very well. You're a woman, Master, but you keep trying to play a role that doesn't suit you."

Bazett glances down at her, defensive. "A warrior? A magus? I don't need to hear that from you. Just look at Scathac-"

"Not that," Medb snaps back. "I'm telling you you keep trying to deny that part of yourself even exists. It's one thing for a woman to be a warrior, or to not care about the fact that she was born a woman. That can be charming. It's another thing for a woman to pretend that's all there is to her."

Bazett rolls her eyes, looks away. She reaches to adjust her jacket - "You've known me for less than a week, Rider -" she starts to say, and then Medb's hand is reaching up, pulling on her tie, fingers closed in a tight fist around it. She pulls Bazett down, until their eyes are level.

"Then why do you keep adjusting that suit like it's a shield? Something that will keep anyone from looking at you?"

Bazett doesn't have answer for that. She just glances down at Medb, breath catching in her throat. She's about to say something, a response is on the tip of her tongue -

"Here you both are," Akiyuki says as he hurries back into the room, handing the crisp bills over to Medb. She's happy to at least pour him another glass, and the two begin to eat their own meals, Medb occasionally prodding at her poor victim out of curiosity.

It isn't until they've finished eating - Medb telling a reluctant, doe-eyed Akiyuki to 'go sleep it off,' an order he immediately accepts - that they say anything to each other, again.

"It'll wear off when he wakes up," Medb answers Bazett's unasked question. "My Mead is powerful, but it's not something that overwrites anyone's personality. Unless I feed them constantly, of course - plenty of men love the idea of being handfed drink by a woman, every day of their lives. Or even licking it -"

"I don't need to hear this," Bazett grumbles as they go up to pay for the meal.

To her credit, the cashier only needs to glance down at Bazett's name on the ticker once to memorize it. "Thank you, Miss McRemitz!" Bazett supposes that a hotel like this gets a lot of foreign clientele.

"Now, that'll be eleven thousand, one-hundred and twenty-two yen."

Medb glances down at the fifteen thousand in her hands, up at the cashier, then pushes the bills over to Bazett. "Yoohoo, Akiyuki!"

"Find someone else to con!" Bazett calls over her shoulder, looks down at the bills in her hands, then shoves the whole pile towards the cashier. "Keep the tip," she tells them, even though that most definitely isn't allowed here.

And then, of course, she hurries after her Servant, because Medb is someone that is impossible to contain. As someone who's spent her entire life trying to contain herself -

Maybe Bazett's starting to admire that.

Just a bit.

**Author's Note:**

> might turn this into more, maybe? I have Ideas but it depends on if I feel like putting them all together. Regardless, hope you enjoyed!


End file.
